Hope When You Take That Jump, You Don't Fear the Fall
by SparksHolly
Summary: Newt decides that there is only one way to escape his misery.
1. Chapter Onesie

**The title is lyrics from the OneRepublic song, I Lived, which I guess is sort of weirdly ironic, considering that this story is about Newt. So thanks for taking a look at this, I appreciate it! **

**(All the characters, sadly, belong to James Dashner.)**

Newt scuffed his shoe on the ground and sighed, leaning against the interior wall of the Homestead. Through the dim light and his half-lidded eyes, he could see groups of Gladersfinish Frypan's breakfast of pancakes and haphazardly stack their plates. Next to Newt stood Minho, his arms crossed and face lit up with his typical smirk, and Alby, who glanced over at Newt, eyebrows knitted with concern.

"You okay, Newt? You don't look too good."

"I'm bloody fine," he mumbled, forcing a small, crooked smile that he was sure Alby could see right through.

Looking distractedly troubled, Alby frowned at Newt, and turned to answer the question of a boy who'd just wandered up to him.

Newt took the distraction as an opportunity, and, desperately not wanting to be interrogated by Alby, he nudged Minho and muttered, "Can we go now?"

Minho nodded and called, "Hey, let's go Runners, ya lazy shanks!"

Rolling his eyes, Newt hastily whisked out of the room, accompanied by a crowd of enthusiastic Runners. After a quick word with Alby, Minho followed at a distance. Newt pretended to listen as the boy next to him vivaciously recounted a story, but his head churned with dismal thoughts and bleak plans. The Glade is hopeless, a prison of desperation and defeat. The feelings caged Newt again, drowning him in desolation and self-pity until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Taking in a shuddering breath, Newt knew what to do, how to end the pain.

As he fingered the hem of his tattered shirt, Newt dropped back to talk with Minho, giving himself one more chance.

"Minho, can I talk to you about something? Something important?"

Minho started to answer, but the resounding creak of the opening Maze made his answer inaudible.

Minho, who looked exhausted and preoccupied, barely glanced at Newt before repeating, "I'm really sorry, Newt, but today it's really important that we get out into the Maze. Tomorrow is the last day of the month, and everyone will be busy with the new Greenbean and sorting out all the supplies and stuff. Can it wait?" He finished, scarcely waiting to see if Newt responded.

"Not really" Newt whispered to himself, getting positioned in front of his section of the Maze.

And then he took off running, clouds of dirt springing up behind his pattering footsteps. Turn left,

right, go straight, left. And once again, the misery swallowed him whole. He couldn't take it

anymore. Snippets of conversations and fragments of images whirled through his mind. Newt

coiled thick vines of ivy around his hands and heaved himself up the seemingly unscalable wall,

inch by inch, choking back sobs. When he reached a crevice about halfway up the wall, Newt

stopped, his hands aching.

His friends gathered in his mind, words of encouragement spilling from their mouths. A determined Alby flashed in his mind, saying, "We can make it out, I know we can." And Minho, hair matted with dirt and rivulets of sweat trickling down his face, murmuring, "If we stay strong, we can find a way out of this shuck place."

Newt calmly unwound the ivy from his hands. He didn't believe his friends. There was no escape from this dreadful place, no end to his pain.

He didn't believe them.

So he jumped.

**Thanks so much for reading! I would love critiques if you have the time. And I'm sorry that Minho acts like that. **

**Sooo... Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here goes Chapter 2! I'm sorry if it's horrible.**

Newt was thankful that the intolerable agony was short. He only felt the fire licking up his leg, smashing the air from his chest, for a millisecond before his head struck the ground and blissful blackness ensued.

The relief was short-lived, though.

What felt like moments later, Newt fought back the scream rising in his throat as he stared, body broken and engulfed in unbearable torture, at the smeared pastel colors spilling across the early evening sky, his vision obscured by dancing black flecks. Newt gasped for breath, grasping at one thought.

_The Maze would be closing soon._

There was blackness once more.

Newt snapped his eyes open again, his breath rattling. _Dying shouldn't be this painful_, Newt told himself, but as his breathing grew more labored and darkness threatened to consume him, he knew he was close to the end. _Goodbye Alby, Minho, Frypan, friends. Goodbye Glade. Goodbye hopeless Maze._

He could feel himself drifting off, but something tugged him back- someone yelling his name, panic evident in their voice. "Newt! Neeewwwt! Where the hell are you?!" He recognized that voice. He heard it almost every day, knew it almost as well as his own. It was Alby. _God, no. _He didn't want Alby to find him like this, to have to explain himself. The voice drew closer and closer until Alby's familiar face appeared in his kaleidoscopic vision. Alby spat out a string of swears, his face creased with trepidation and horror. "What-"

As Newt's vision swung in and out of focus, he saw Alby, hands trembling and mouth agape, kneel next to him. "Newt, you shuck-face, what happened?!"

He attempted to reply, but everything around him swayed. He could barely breathe through the pain his chest, his head throbbed viciously, and his leg was on fire. Newt struggled vainly to remain alert as Alby slung him over his shoulder, but his eyesight dimmed and he tumbled into dreamless, starless unconsciousness.

He came to as the great slabs of stone inched towards eachother, leaving a closing tunnel for Alby to run through. A screaming crowd of Gladers had gathered at the entrance, urging Alby on. He staggered forward, yelling in frustration, Newt in tow. _We're not going to make it._ The Maze walls were about to crush them, forcing Alby to turn sideways. With one desperate lunge, Alby jerked them both out as the walls slammed shut behind them. Alby collapsed to the ground, dumping Newt unceremoniously next to him.

There was a moment of pure, stunned silence before the clamoring conversation began.

"Holy-"

"Oh my god, what happened?!"

"Is he gonna be okay?"

Alby ignored the questions and addressed the nearest boy. "Get the Med-jacks. Now." The boy ran off, and Alby turned to the crowd and snapped, "Go away, give us some room!"

The pack of boys complied, dissipating in small groups, leaving Alby and Minho crouching over a barely conscious Newt. Newt could scarcely feel the pain anymore, like he was separating from his own body. But he could still hear his shallow, uneven breathing. Alby grasped Newt's chin and forced him to look up. "Stay with us, c'mon Newt."

Their eyes met, and Alby's widened in understanding. His voice was a shocked, hoarse whisper, but was quickly escalating with fury. "You jumped, didn't you? Couldn't take it anymore, so you jumped off the wall, thinking that it would fix all your problems. Bet you didn't think about _us_ when you tried to kill yourself-" The ringing in his ears drowned out everything else.

Strangely, Newt felt nothing but an odd numbness where his friend's words should have stabbed him.

As the apprehensive faces of the Med-jacks swam in his vision, Newt felt himself lifted into the air, carried a short distance, and lowered onto some sort of bed. The pain was returning, pulsing in waves, and all Newt could focus on was that he was _still alive. _

_Way to go, Newt. You're still alive, in more pain, and you have bigger problems than you had before. Way to go._

The tide of blackness rolled in again, and Newt gladly toppled into it.

**88888888888888888**

Newt groaned and pried open his eyes. Pain lanced through his head, and every breath triggered a dull throbbing in his chest. _Must've cracked a rib or something._ He stole a glance at his heavily bandaged leg propped up on some wooden contraption, and everything came rushing back. The jump off the wall, Alby dragging him through the Maze, the desperate lunge into the safety of the Glade. Newt groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to relive the anguished moments again. _Everyone probably hates me. _Pushing his problems to the back of his mind, Newt took in his surroundings.

Pale candlelight threw itself across the small, plain, slightly shabby room he occupied. The paint on the walls, that had once been white, had faded to a light shade of brown and was flaking off in slivers. There was a small wooden table by his cot, and next to the table was a chair taken by none other than Minho, who was slumped over and had fallen asleep. The light from the candle softened the contours of Minho's face, making him look years younger. Newt sighed deeply, then winced at the spasm of pain. _What in the world do I tell him?_

Minho stirred, blinking slowly, and mumbled groggily, "Newt? You awake?"

"Yeah." His voice was hoarse whisper.

Minho sat up and studied Newt. "You look like shit."

"Nice to see you too, Minho."

Minho cracked a strained, unnatural smile, then it fell from his face and he looked up at Newt, eyes brimming with sadness. Voice barely audible, he whispered, "Why did you jump?"

Newt felt tears welling up in his eyes. "Minho, I- I just couldn't take it any more, you know? There's no way out of this place, I'm useless, and nobody would miss me anyways."

Minho was blinking rapidly. "Is that what you think? Because Newt, I would sure as _hell _miss you, and I _know _everyone else would. You are- were my best Runner, and we're _gonna find a way out of here. _I promise."

Newt gave a wan smile, staring tearfully at his broken leg, but his heart lifted a little bit. "You promise you're going find a way out?"

"Pinky promise. Do you promise you're going to try and get better and let me and Alby help you?"

Newt hesitated before replying with a smirk, "Pinky promise."

And they shook on it.

**Hope you somewhat enjoyed it, I would appreciate a review if you have the time! Thank you so much for reading.**

**Sorry Newt passed out like 5 different times.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, thank you SO very much to everyone who has read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. I really, really appreciate it! (Also, I'm sorry it took so long to update.)**

**This chapter took a bowl of cheese puffs, some U2, and a lot hours (not consecutively) to get written. I'm sorry, I was feeling ****really uninspired to write this chapter, so it's not very good. Blah.**

**(Everything belongs to James Dashner)**

_Some of us fall by the wayside_

_And some of us soar to stars_

_And some of us sail through our troubles_

_And some have to live with the scars_

_-Elton John, The Circle of Life_

Minho leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His posture was relaxed, Newt noticed, he seemed to have forgiven Newt already for the huge incident. The feeble candlelight cast flitting shadows across his face, making his eyes dark, almost black. Minho blew a tendril of coal-black hair out of his face and said, almost cheerfully, "Alby's pissed at you."

Newt licked his parched lips and shut his eyes. "I know."

"_Well_, aren't you going to do something about it?"

"No." Newt had no intention of talking to Alby for a while. He could still remember the anger etched into Alby's face as the Med-jacks had leaned over him, and the betrayal flashing in his eyes.

"That's fine, 'cause I am."

"Wait-_what?_" Newt wrenched his eyes open. Minho had stood up and was crossing the room, hand extended for the door handle.

"Wait- _wait a_ bloody_ minute,_ Minho. I'm not ready to talk to Alby yet." _And I never will be._

Minho turned around, feigning sympathy, trying to mask his smirk. "Oh, really? I'm sorry, Newt… too bad." Again, he reached for the door.

"Minho, _don't even think about it-_" Newt untangled himself from the blankets and, completely forgetting about his useless leg, darted forward. As Newt crashed to the floor with a cry of pain, he glimpsed Minho's shocked face, all hints of humor gone, turned halfway towards him.

Newt instinctively curled up, unable to suppress the pathetic moan that escaped him. Fiery pain engulfed his leg, and he gasped for breath, trying to ignore the throbbing of his ribs.

Minho was instantly on his knees, voice rising with increasing panic. "What the hell, Newt? Hey, talk to me. Newt, you gotta talk to me, man."

_Get a grip._

Newt took a shuddering breath, angling his head to peer up at Minho's anxious face hovering above him. "I'm okay," he lied. "I just..." Newt swallowed. "Just... Forgot about my leg." He winced, lying as still as possible. "Is it...?"

Minho cringed at the vague inquiry. "I don't really know how to say this, but.. The Med-Jacks said that you, uh, won't be a Runner anymore."

The words took a moment to be processed, then slammed Newt hard. _Won't be a Runner anymore... Won't be a Runner anymore... _

Hopelessness battered him again, the raw, aching sadness gnawing at his side. He gazed down at the mess of his leg, which was swathed in bandages, and murmured, almost inaudibly, "I wish I was dead."

A sharp, stinging slap whipped his head to the side. Minho's voice was suddenly electric with anger. "_Don't you_ ever _say that again or I will beat the __crap __out of you._"

Newt shut his eyes tight, burying his face in the crook of his arm. _I don't mean it, _he told himself, but for some reason couldn't make himself say it out loud.

Minho continued, crouching down. His voice was soft and dejected. "We need you. You're my best friend, one of the only things that make this hell bearable. I can't believe you don't see it, but I-we really need you."

Newt felt himself smile, the curving shape strange on his lips. Inadvertently brushing slow circles on the wooden floor, he struggled into a sitting position. "God, I don't deserve friends like you."

"You're just a beacon of sunshine today, aren't you?"

Newt rolled his eyes. "Can you help me up?"

There was an exasperated sigh, and he grabbed the hands Minho offered, pulling himself to his feet, leaning heavily on Minho for support. Hissing at the burst of pain that flared at his ankle, Newt shuffled to the little cot, biting back the whimpers forming in his throat. He sat perpendicular to the bed, legs dangling across the side.

Minho's voice was gentle, for once, as he announced, "I'm gonna get Alby, okay?"

There was a long pause. "Yeah, okay."

Minho slowly walked towards the door, tense, as if he expected Newt to launch himself across the floor again. He twisted the door handle, and slipped out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

Newt took a deep, shaky breath, mentally and physically preparing himself for the likely depressing conversation soon to come. Talking to Minho could have been worse, had Minho not understood him so much, but explaining everything to Alby would be a different story. Alby could be headstrong and narrow minded, and convincing him that jumping was a stupid mistake and that it wouldn't happen again would be impossible.

At the discernible sound of pattering footsteps, Newt lifted his head. Alby slid into view, and Newt flinched at the wounded look in Alby's eyes, and how tired he looked. Alby slowly, quietly shut the door behind him, then turned and spoke, his voice deadly quite. "I can't believe believe you did that, Newt. And I know exactly what you did, so don't give me any bullshit."

Newt swallowed, and sucked in a big breath. "Alby. I hate this place. I absolutely despise it. It's a cage, a prison, and I _could not stand_ living here anymore. The only redeeming value is you guys, and I thought you were better off without me anyway."

Alby started to interrupt, but Newt continued. "I understand that you guys need me more than I thought, and I promise you I'm not gonna try anything like that again."

There was a long silence, a strange tension palpable in the air. Then Alby spoke, voice wobbly. "You know, the only time I've seen Minho cry was after you jumped off that wall."

_Minho? No way. _Newt bit his lip, at loss for what to say.

"And do you know what it was like, for me? To find you lying in a puddle of blood, your leg all mangled, barely conscious? I was scared, Newt, and-"

"Alright, _alright_, I get it," Newt cut in weakly, tired of hearing about this all over again, tired of feeling crummy and sad. "And I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm here now, and I want to help."

Alby nodded, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "You're crazy, man. And I'm not ever gonna forget this." He shook his head. "We told all the other Gladers that a Griever was chasing you, and you tripped and fell, okay? You're going to stay here for a while, and then how would you feel about helping me out a bit, like a Second in Command?"

Newt took a moment to reflect on everything, mulling it over and weighing his options. "Sounds good, I guess."

"Do you think everything is going to turn out all right?" Alby sounded so young doubtful, his eyes full of uncertainty.

"Yeah." For the first time in a long while, Newt genuinely felt like everything would be all right.

**Jeez, such a cliche ending. Sorry.**

**If you have the time, please tell me what I can change to make this better! I really appreciate critiques!**

**Anyone have any ideas for a next ****chapter, or should this be the end?**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING :) **


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